About this Poem 

“The poem searches for the physical proof of abstract things; wind, morning, love. The brown leaves lead to the wind’s form, the crow to the morning. The pattern of these parts suggested the shape of love as it appeared to me.”
Jonathan Wells

Love’s Body

Love gives all its reasons
as if they were terms for peace.
Love is this but not that
that but not this.
Love as it always was.

But there is no peace in the mountain
cleft where the fruit bats scatter
from the light.
There is no peace in the hollow when
the heat snuffs night’s blue candle.

The outline of brown leaves on
the beach is the wind’s body.

A crow is squawking at the sun
as if the screech itself is dawn.
Let me hear every perfect note.
How I loved that jasper morning.
 

Copyright © 2015 by Jonathan Wells. Used with permission of the author.

Copyright © 2015 by Jonathan Wells. Used with permission of the author.

Jonathan Wells

Jonathan Wells

Jonathan Wells is the author of The Man With Many Pens, forthcoming from Four Way Books in the fall of 2015. He lives in New York City.

by this poet

poem

Imagine you are coming home. Your front
steps are scattered with fresh petals or no
they are not there and you return in your
regular shoes from your regular leather chair.
The feeling is the same. The petals are just
as fine, the colors just as blithe and were placed
or unplaced by

poem

His clothes were filled with tickets to past events
so he could hear the orchestra tuning up again
and the airplane landing near the diving cliffs

in Acapulco where the boys leapt into the known
unknown in Speedo suits. All travel was continuous.
Time was ceaseless in his pockets. The